Lead Us to the Haunt
by GuardianAthens
Summary: For some reason, Germany joins his brother and the rest of the Bad Friends Trio in storming a 'haunted house', which claims to house a ghost that turns into something you love and don't want to lose, or have lost and want back. It seems dead, until Germany finds himself in a full-out haunt of lost memories.


_**I wanted to do something with the BTT/BFT, Germany and ghosts...and somehow it turned into a shipping fic. Welp, that's what I get and give to you**_

* * *

"Yo, bruder!"

Germany groaned, slamming his book closed, and peering over the back of the couch at Prussia. He was shoving something into a duffle bag, counting something off on his fingers.

"What are you doing East?" Germany asked, watching as Prussia shoved something that looked like a huge glowstick into the bag. Prussia looked over at him and smiled.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to join me and the BFT in a bit of a house raid?"

Germany looked from his brother to the duffel bag, and then to the remaining contents to be stuffed into said bag. He looked like he was going camping for the night instead of a house raid. Random zip lock bags were filled with what looked like junk food, a box of chalk, and my god even a fucking sleeping bag. Why in the hell would he need a sleeping bag for a raid? He knew that all they did in raids was go in, prove some stupid rumor false, and leave! Not sleep in some person's house through the night!

"Why the hell are you packing a sleeping bag?" he asked instead. Prussia looked over to the object, and his smile grew larger. He held up the chalk though when he answered him.

"Because my good brother, we are going to prove the Castorial House wrong and survive the night with its ghosts!"

Germany's eyes widened at the mention of the Castorial House. The place had been abandoned when they moved in, the neighbors telling them the last family to live there ended up leaving in tears and screams. No one knew why they did, but it interested him. He had done some research on the house to find out about it. Apparently, ever since the early 20th century, families haven't been able to last a few days in the Victorian home. People have had accounts of something inside the house, but the accounts were so large and varied it was outrageous. Everyone kept on seeing something different. He knew of the rumor of the 'shapeshifting' ghost of Castorial.

"The Castorial siren…." Germany mumbled. Prussia's smile widened even more.

"I knew you would know about it!" he cheered, stuffing the chalk and the food into the duffel. He continued packing in everything into his bag, but just as his hand hovered over the sleeping bag, he looked over at Germany who looked like he was actually considering joining him.

"Alright, I'm in. Though I'm packing my own crap!" Germany said with a smirk, and went off to find a duffel for himself. He however found himself already having second thoughts as he grabbed his army duffel from under his bed and started searching for his own sleeping bag.

"I'm going to be spending the night in some haunted house with France, Spain and Prussia…..what the hell was I thinking?"

* * *

Packing for the German brothers did not last long, as Prussia contributed to helping him pack what he needed. For some reason, he gave him chalk. Prussia later explained that they were going to draw some cool summoning circles to see if they could directly connect with the Castorial Siren.

"So you're going to try and attempt to do something that England can do?" Germany asked. Prussia nodded feverishly, and tossed his duffel bag onto his back.

"Oh yeah! I think Francis is bringing an Ouija board"

"A Ouija board?! Are you trying to kill us?!" Germany shouted in protest. Anyone who knew anything about the paranormal and unexplainable knew about Ouija boards. Ouija boards were once fun games, used in séances and spirit communications to contact spirits they could not see. It soon became a fun game to people, but the board is more then it seems.

People have said that each board can contact not just spirits left to wander but demons, dark entities that look for destruction, possession. Some people have claimed to be possessed during the use of the Ouija board. People now take caution with using it, warning those young and naïve to NOT just play with them for sport or dares. They could bring something in that they did not want there.

"Relax yourself! We know what we're doing bruder! What could happen with the board anyway?" Germany looked at his brother with utter confusion.

"You have never heard of the stories about using an Ouija board?" he asked serious. He was okay with going up against the Castoria House ghost, but risking the chance to summon something dark from a Ouija board? He was NOT going to do anything with such things.

"Yes. Nothing happens!"

Germany face palmed. He never heard of things being summoned by the board, only to have the spirit NEVER leave?

"That board could summon something that won't leave, East. I'm not coming if you're using it. I won't be coming either if you try to actually summon something with the arcane circles you're planning to draw" Germany said in protest, tossing his full duffel bag on the couch. He was true about it. Those were his only terms. No uses of the Ouija board, and no strong, REAL usage of arcane circles. He didn't want to end up like England after failing a spell.

"Okay, okay…..are they really called arcane circles?"

Germany shrugged. "I don't know, but the word arcane is tossed around a lot near England"

Something suddenly occurred to Prussia. He jumped on to his brother with a knowing smirk.

"Why are you so interested in the paranormal, huh? Are you hiding out on me, on Italy?"

That seemed to strike a nerve in Germany. He growled low under his breath, and looked at Prussia after pushing him off.

"Do NOT bring Italy into this, and it's just the Castorial Siren I'm interested in"

"You're lying, I can see it! Are you THAT interested in the paranormal?!" Prussia was done toying. He looked at his brother, who now sneered at him. They were at a standstill, until France and Spain walked in, all smiles.

"You guys…ohhh, what's going on?" Spain asked, his smile breaking into a confused line. France looked oddly at Prussia.

"Nothing…" Germany had dropped the issue. Prussia though was far from done.

"Germany won't admit he's all up in arms with the paranormal"

France smiled. So they got Germany on board. He grabbed for Germany's duffel, tossing the heavy bag up on his shoulders.

"It seems that he's crazy about it enough to join us in the Castorial House for a night. Leave it be, and just be glad he decided to join us this time, oui?"

Prussia sighed and picked up his own duffel. They four of them piled out of the house, shoved everything they brought into Spain's jeep, and were off toward their next house raid. Germany found himself pondering about what could happen.

The Castorial Siren was called shape shifter, on account of the all-too-many instances people saw ghosts from the house. People have said the ghost looked like someone close to them, or someone they longed to be alive again. This worried him. If the ghost lived up to it's reputation, could he see Italy?

"Hey, Germany…" France had decided to break the silence, even though Spain and Prussia were talking up front. He looked over with a grunt at the Frenchman.

"Who do you think you'll see when we get there?"

Germany looked at the sinking sun, the bright ball descending into the horizon.

"Italy's the only thing close to me….." he said softly, his eyes warping the sun into Italy's face.

"Ahh….and yet you still decided to join us?" France knew how it felt. He found himself in fear at the mention of the shape shifter taking form of the watcher's love.

"I guess the pull of seeing something paranormal has gotten me by the neck, and uh…." He leaned a bit closer to France, not bothering with scolding himself about doing so. This was something for fun, so no hate on him. Anyway, he was so far on his positive side.

"I guess I honestly am really into the paranormal…" he whispered to him. Both men smiled and let the silence reign again. Spain chuckled and pointed out a two-story Victorian home coming up.

"Here we are! I introduce to you, the Castorial Haunted House!"

* * *

Night had fallen after they settled into the Castorial house. Sleeping bags were rolled out, a fire started in the old fireplace, and everyone waiting for the ghosts to show themselves. Gilbert, on some weird kick, had brought his glowing Lightsaber sword. A replica of the futuristic weapons from Star Wars, it glowed a soft blue, and shadowed all of them in pale blue light. Gilbert was cradling his lightsaber in one arm, while scratching at the floor with a piece of chalk. He seemed to be doodling. Francis was walking around the second floor, flashlight in hand. Spain was trying to roast marshmallows using the fire.

"Nothing. I'm starting to think it's a hoax" Prussia grumbled, setting down his chalk. Germany took out his pack of chalk, and looked at it for a moment. He could try something…..

"Spain, bruder. I think I have a way to increase our chances of seeing it" Germany said, standing up. "Move the carpet"

The large oval shaped carpet was quickly moved, leaving a large circular space of wooden floor. Francis came downstairs, and pointed the flashlight on the empty space.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Germany held up the chalk, tapping it with an index finger.

"Something that may or may not work…" Germany squatted down, setting the chalk against the wood. He could try this, but if he fucked it up, it meant bad news. He slowly drew a small circle, placing a weird symbol he remembered into it.

"Place one of the candles into this. I'm going to mark where to put candles with this symbol, alright?"

The Trio acknowledged him. They slowly placed candles around in the spots they needed, Germany slowly drawing a large white circle. He soon started to draw inside it, bringing the liens together to form a star. The final shape was a pentagram.

"Are we summoning the devil or ghosts!?" Prussia shrieked. Germany sighed.

"Not all pentagrams are satanic. The symbol dates back into the days of Paganism, France you should know this, right?"

France nodded "Yes. America was going apeshit over 'The Da Vinci Code', though it taught me a lot about it".

"The symbol was for Isis, a goddess to the Pagans. The symbol I drew for the candles is to help draw positive energy. Now don't muss the circle, or you could stir up some creepy ass shit" Germany explained, slowly stepped out of his drawing. It was a bit daunting, but it would work hopefully. Nothing happened though, and everyone called it a night. Well, almost everyone. Germany lay awake on his sleeping bag.

Something was keeping him on edge, something about the chill that seemed to capture him. Something was here, watching him and waiting. He sat up from his makeshift sleeping arrangements and stood up so quickly, he almost fell over France. He saw something, someone, running down the hall next to the pentagram, a flash of green following the person.

He ran after the green flash, finding the hallway empty. What had he seen? Was it the Castorial Siren playing with him? He should head back to the Trio, because now it was getting risky. He turned to walk back to the main living room, to find him staring into the eyes of Italy, or at least he thought he was.

Italy, or whoever it was, clutching onto the white accents of a green dress. The figure he assumed was Italy smiled at him before running into the room he had come from, beckoning him to follow with a flick of the wrist. He followed on instinct, to find him gone. It had to be the ghost. He looked over his shoulder as he heard a door open, and a giggle echoed in the air. He walked down the hall, noticing the door opened. He could hear something speaking, something soft and calming. He touched the door and peered inside.

Inside, sitting on the bed inside, was Italy in the green dress that he'd been chasing. He was facing the opposite way of the door, humming a soft tune that sounded familiar. He played with the lacy edges of the dress with small nimble twists of his fingers. On top of his head though rested a flower crown of a mint green flower. He looked over his shoulder as he knocked gently on the door. His curl twisted into a heart shape, jumping up from the bed to hurdle himself at him.

"Holy Roma!" his voice warbled from his voice to something higher, almost entirely feminine. Italy streamed right through him, and left without a trace. He didn't know what to do. He just had a ghost past through him, taking the form of Italy, but something…..something was off. He left the empty room and wandered around the first floor, finding himself surrounded by small whispers, little flowers popping up around him. He knew the flower, the soft purple flower.

The room he stood still in seemed to be full of Heliotropes. The tiny bunches of purple flowers swayed around in nonexistent wind at his feet. As he turned to leave the room, they all went up in smoke, burning until it left what was actually in the room. He carefully stepped over the broken glass littered on the floor and continued his walk-through, finally making it to the stairs leading to the second floor. He looked over to the boys in the visible foyer. No one seemed close to waking up. He grabbed one of the old-styled lamps set near them, courtesy of Spain who pulled them out of his attic, just in case it was pitch black, and slowly ascended. As he looked up, Italy once again in the green dress was waiting. A voice said something behind him, and he found himself looking around on the steps.

"Chibitalia, wait up!"

As he found no source for the voice, he looked back up to the stairs, finding that this 'Chibitalia' was gone. He continued his ascent, until coming to the darkness of the second floor. He raised his lamp, and looked around. For him, he saw more heliotropes, and the green dress leading him into an old room marked 'Italia'. He walked up to the marker, and ran a thumb over it. It actually read 'Storage', but he would not know until he left the room. He walked in, and was met with the sound of crying.

Chibitalia, now smaller then he first saw him, sat on the floor of the cluttered room, the dress a mess of it's original glory, dirt and even blood spotting it. He continued to rub at the tears falling down his face, soft sobs and squeaks leaving his throat. The flower crown had disappeared, replaced by a blood-spotted white hat. He looked like he had gone through a war.

"W-why do people fight?" Chibi said in-between a sob. "Why must I fight..."

"Are you okay?" Germany asked, walking farther into the room. He was too far into the illusion, too far into his memories to believe this was the work of a ghost. Chibitalia turned to him, and a smile broke through on his saddened face.

"Holy Rome...you..." he started to stand up, wobbling on uneven feet, "You came back!" The boy started to walk, but found himself falling with his arms outstretched to him. Germany quickly moved to catch him, falling to his knees in the process as he catch him. When he finally felt him, though, he knew it was a ghost. The skin was too soft, and he was growing transparent. Chibitalia though sobbed in his arms, clutching desperately at his chest.

"I was worried, Holy Roma. I thought you wouldn't come back..."

Soon he disappeared, leaving Germany on the floor of the dusty room, a speck of blood left where Chibitalia once knelt at. Germany got back up to his feet, still numb from all of this. What was he seeing, exactly? Things he loved, or things he missed? Or was it a sick tale of both that he wanted back?

He turned to walk out of the room and back to the second floor, to his brother and his friends but was stopped as he looked down a new hallway in front of him, leading into another room.

A boy, about the same size and age as the Chibitalia he held in the room perhaps, stood in the new hallway. He was wearing a bellowing black cloak, gold accents glittering in the dim light that highlighted his milky, see-through form. He looked exactly like him, but so much younger. Piercing blue eyes that held locked emotions, and blond hair with bangs that just covered his forehead. In one of his hands that rested in front of him were an Iron cross and a white flag.

The boy smiled at him, at slowly starting walked toward him. Germany found himself walking towards him, his heart beating hard against his chest. The boy…he knew him. The white flag, he knew that. This….it couldn't….

As they met in the middle, Germany dropped to his knees in front of the small child, and the boy smiled both sadly and happily. He softly placed both of his hands on Germany's face, the palms albeit rougher then he thought, both sets of blue eyes never leaving each other.

"Hello…me"

* * *

The next morning came quickly, and soon the four of them left for home. The Bad Friends trio was greatly disappointed that they never encountered the Castorial Siren, and called it a empty case, probably meaning they'll never come back to it. They returned all of their things back into the jeep as the sun finally broke the horizon's line. Germany looked back once more at the house, settling a hand into one pocket of his jacket, feeling his 'souvenir' from the place. He smiled up at the home's second floor. Just inside one of the windows peeked out the boy. He would have to thank him.

"Germany, come on! We are going to leave your sorry ass here" Prussia called out. He turned on his heels and loaded up in the readied Jeep. As he looked up at the house, two figures stood in one of the first floor windows, waving at him as the Jeep pulled away from the home possibly for good. Only a few minutes of driving gave them a great distance away from the haunted home, and into familiar territory. They were going to drop Germany off, since they had plans to actually do a house raid before they wasted away more time. France looked over at Germany, noting that the German kept his eyes trained to the horizon in front of them. Gilbert and Spain were chatting again over the roar of the engine, so any words he spoke would be muffled into background sound.

"You saw it last night, didn't you?" Germany looked at France for a moment, and smiled softly. He looked back out into the sunrise, seeing the smallest peaks of ocean. They weren't far from his home with Italy now.

"You can say that…." He pulled his souvenir out of its home in his pants pocket, looked at it for a moment, and smiled at it. France took a peek at it quickly without Germany noticing, but all he found was a blank photo in his hands. It looked like the background was of a flowery field. Where the hell he got it, France would never know. He sighed in defeat, hoping that it was a photo of something else, and returned to looking over the other side of the road with no real interest but for some sleep. Germany though saw the picture differently.

In the picture were him and Italy, and Chibitalia and Holy Rome. The faces and bodies overlapped, like a copy on to a copy. Italy was over Chibitalia, Germany over Holy Rome. Even the backgrounds overlapped, one being a green and flower-filled field, the other being bright blue sky.

Germany just hoped that Italy could see it when he got home, and couldn't wait to tell him the story of how he met the Castorial ghost that took him back in time.


End file.
